Wings of Arian (2 page)

Suddenly nervous, she said, “I still am not sure that I understand why we are here.” She searched Aleric’s face for clues as she sat down, gripping the twisted roots that served as arms for their chairs.

“Since evil does not exist in the world you know, we must show it to you.” Eleana explained again. “The wings can show us the past.” Reaching out she touched them, instantly the void between the wings snapped into solidity with a thunderous crack. Kiora jumped. Pictures of the past began to roll in front of her, more horrible than she could have ever imagined; even more horrible than her old visions. She turned her head away with a gasp as Eleana moved to sit in the last remaining chair.

“Kiora,” Aleric touched her arm, his voice thick with guilt, “Please, you have to watch, it’s necessary. As the Solus, you must understand what it is we are fighting.”

Kiora looked up at him, bewildered. His blue eyes were laden with apologies.

The Solus. Up until now it was just a title. One that had finally enabled her to make some sense of her past. But now, she had seen what Aleric had been hinting at. With great effort, she turned her eyes back.

In a towering picture a man stepped over his wife, screaming, spittle flying over her and the room. With a grunt of anger, he pulled his hand back and slapped her across the face, sending the woman flying. Kiora recoiled in her chair as if she had been slapped. Her mind was reeling, searching for understanding where there was none.

The wings moved on to the next scene, a man stealing into the home of another in the middle of the night.

“What is he doing?” she whispered again glancing back and forth between Aleric and Eleana, who were not watching the scenes before them but watching her instead.

Eleana’s head turned reluctantly back to the pictures, focusing Kiora back on what was playing before her.

Pulling a dagger out of his shirt the man stood over his victim,

Her hands flew to her mouth, “No.” she whimpered looking frantically at Eleana and back to Aleric.

The man plunged the dagger silently into his victim’s heart, swiftly, deftly and without remorse.

Kiora groaned in pain, wrapping her arms around her stomach.

Aleric reached over again touching her arm in reassurance. Blood was seeping out of the dying man’s wound when the picture changed.

“Aleric, I can’t,” she groaned. “I don’t understand.”

“It was the only way,” his voice cracked, “to show you evil, to help you understand.”

She could tell he felt pity for her, but it didn’t stop the pictures. On and on they rolled. Pain racked her body with each terrible event rendered before her. Her stomach lurched, threatening to empty itself, her muscles aching with tension. Lying, stealing, hatred, murder, detailing things that had been no more real to her than the fairy stories she had been told as a child. The happiness she had felt as she trailed her fingers across the wings were now gone. She was drowning in a sea of pain that was so much deeper than she had believed possible. How could something so beautiful show such evil?

The wings moved on, a small child was being sold into slavery. Men moved around him probing his body, examining his teeth as they would an animal. The boy’s terror was palpable to Kiora as though he was next to her. The boy’s new masters soon prepared a brand, searing it into his tiny back.

“No!” Kiora screamed, surging to her feet. “Stop!’

The wings ignored her pleas and the pictures marched on relentlessly before her.

“Kiora please,” Eleana begun reaching for her.

But Kiora didn’t hear the rest. With a whimper of panic she turned, and ran.

She could hear Aleric and Eleana shouting for her, she didn’t care. All she cared about was escaping. Soon their voices vanished, then their threads vanished, and all that was left was the wind whistling past her ears.

***

Kiora ran further and further into the forest. The branches reached out in an attempt to stop her, ripping at her clothes and hair. She tripped, stumbling over fallen tree limbs and rocks as she ran. Her pants were ripped and her knees were probably bleeding, but she didn’t care. Sobbing, she pushed through the branches, her throat and lungs burning with the combined effort.

In her naivety, she hoped that escaping the meadow would mean escaping the pain, but no matter how far she ran the pain would not stop. The screams and cries of those she had seen rang in her ears, and the memory of it ran with her, side by side, holding her completely and utterly hostage.

Lurching to a halt she finally she gave in with a scream, collapsing on the ground, sides heaving with exhaustion and pain. She sobbed into the forest floor, pounding her fists into the ground until they ached. With a groan, she finally wilted, allowing the numbness to grab hold.

Limp, she lay there on the ground with pine needles and rocks digging into her face and hands; wishing silently to reach into her mind, pry the images from her brain, to wipe her memory. The thought almost made her laugh. That was the problem with memories; they were impervious to any attempts to erase them. No, memories nag at you, never allowing you to forget. She had learned that lesson well.

A new hopelessness drug itself over her like an unwanted blanket. What she had just seen would be with her, always. She had never known of her own innocence, but it had just been stripped, taken, and she was acutely aware of its absence.

The next day dawned and Kiora was pulled out of nightmare-filled sleep to singing birds. She blinked a few times before remembering where she was, she hadn’t remembered falling asleep. Groaning she rolled over, aware of a throbbing in her face and hands. She brushed at the pine needles and rocks she had ignored yesterday that were now firmly embedded in her skin from the long night on the ground. Once the offending objects were removed she recognized the tiny thread slipping through her heart. This one was magical, good, and belonged to a Guardian. The Guardian’s threads vibrated faster than anyone else’s she had come across.

She looked up to the trees, squinting at the slivers of sun breaking through the foliage. “Is that you Malena?” Aleric had said she would eventually recognize individual threads, just as one would recognize a face upon seeing someone; but they were all so new to her still, and there were so many.

A small creature no bigger than the palm of her hand flitted down on shimmering wings, her silver hair lying perfectly between them. She was stunningly beautiful; her eyes were big and blue with a perfectly sculpted nose and red lips— a contrast to Kiora’s dark hair, green eyes and subtle features. Malena’s striking features and pale silver hair were a perfect fit to her shapely, albeit, tiny body. When Kiora had first met her she had half expected the tiny creature to giggle and blush incessantly.

“Kiora, Arturo is waiting for you.”

Kiora stared at the ground, chewing on her lip. “I can’t do this Malena!” she blurted. “I thought I could, but I can’t.” A tear trickled down her cheek and she angrily brushed at it. “I can’t even watch evil, how can I possibly fight it?”

“Kiora, it is the goodness of your heart that qualifies you for this calling,” she said gently. “This is also why it hurts so badly. Goodness is pained by evil. It is the way of things.”

Kiora gripped her head, sagging. “I can’t Malena. I can’t stop this evil, “maybe there is someone else, maybe...”

Malena interrupted. “There is no other, Kiora. You have been with us only a short time and it has already been proved time and again.”

Kiora peered up at her through her hair, scowling, “What are you talking about?”

“Levitation?” Malena prodded.

Kiora snorted. “Levitation took me three days to learn. When I finally did get that stupid rock to move, it was because I was mad at Emane. I aimed it at his head.” she gingerly touched the bruise on her own forehead; it had almost faded in color but was still incredibly tender. “I missed.”

Malena fought back a smile. “That is what you get for using magic in anger. Regardless, three days is miraculous. I believe Aleric said it took him a month.”

“Really?” He hadn’t mentioned that.

“More importantly, we were all most surprised to find you could speak to Arturo.”

“Everyone can speak to Arturo,” Kiora said, pulling her knees to her chest and resting her head with a defeated sigh

Malena flew closer putting her finger under her chin, forcing her eyes up. “No Kiora, they can’t. He is telepathic as you know, but only a few magical creatures can communicate with pegasus. And humans? Well, you are only the second to have that ability.”

Kiora stared at her for some time not sure what to say. “Who was the other?” she finally asked.

“Arian.”

“As in, the ‘Wings of Arian’ and the ‘Prophecy of Arian’?”

“Indeed. He was the last Solus and the one who set down the prophecy concerning you.” She smiled, “He was also Aleric’s grandfather.”

“Aleric’s grandfather? But that would make Aleric...” she trailed off trying to do the math in her head.

“Older than most, magic keeps us young, Kiora.”

Kiora reached down and picked up a pine needle twirling it absently between her fingers. “Malena, are you sure? That I am the Solus?”

Malena turned her head to the side, “You do not believe it?”

Throwing the needle away she sighed, “I don’t know what I believe.”

“Kiora, whether we believe it or not is of no consequence, it is a choice you have to make. Our faith in you will not garner faith in yourself.”

“Faith in myself.” she murmured. “It is hard to have faith in yourself when your own sister...” she stopped.

Malena raised her eyebrows

Shaking her head Kiora asked, “Is it always going to hurt?”

Malena’s eyes filled with sadness. “Yes, it will always hurt,” she said, reaching out a tiny finger to Kiora’s cheek

Kiora looked away, her chest aching and her eyes burning with the tears that had sprung up. She was so foolish to have hoped that Malena’s answer might be no.

“Kiora, why did you accept this, in the beginning?” Malena asked gingerly.

Kiora mulled that over, chewing on her bottom lip. “Because,” she ventured. “It explained everything. It explained the visions I would have, it proved that I wasn’t crazy.”
And that my parent’s death was not my fault
, she thought.

“Sometimes things hurt Kiora, but we do them anyway. Your people are depending on you to stop Dralazar from overrunning them.”

Kiora battled within herself. The pain of last night was still raw and the thought of enduring more or being acquainted with it on an intimate basis made her want to run screaming. But what of her people? Could she allow them to become the victims in this nightmare?

“What are you thinking?” Malena finally ventured.

“What if I try to save them, and I’m not good enough?” she blurted. “What if I fail and it happens anyway?”

“What if you don’t try to save them at all?” she answered simply.

“Malena, I have never been... anything.”

“Don’t be ridiculous Kiora, we are all something. You just never knew what lay within you. Now that you know, you must choose. Will you ignore it and go back to pretending that you are nothing? Or will you embrace it and become the something that you were meant to be? You have been blessed with all the tools to fulfill this calling Kiora, you just need to find them.”

Kiora fiddled with the torn edge of her pants, weighing what she had just seen with what Malena had said. “Being different has always been… bad for me. She thought of her sister’s disapproving glances and shuddered.

“Being different will now be painful for you, but it will be worth it. One step at a time, Kiora,” Malena added.

Swallowing, she sighed. “Where is Arturo?”

“He is waiting for you to call.” Malena smiled while brushing a wisp of dark hair out of her face. “You are extraordinary Kiora; you just haven’t seen it yet.”

The little Guardian fluttered into the trees, her silver wings glinting briefly as the sun caught them, leaving her alone again.

Arturo
, she thought.

Are you ready
? The tenor voice reverberated, not in her ears but through her mind.

No
, she thought before she remembered he had just heard that. “Sorry,” she said out loud, “ready as I’ll ever be.”

As she waited alone in the woods, the memories from the wings tiptoed back into the forefront of her thoughts. Shoving them back, she clenched her fists and pushed herself to her feet. “You could always go back home,” she growled to herself. “But you don’t want that either do you?”

It wasn’t but a minute later that the low hum of Arturo’s thread announced his arrival. Shortly thereafter he flew in, landing a few feet away from her. He was always beautiful, but today in the sun he was glorious. The pegasus was not white but rather opalescent. When the sun hit his outstretched wings the colors danced and spun across them in a beautiful water ballet. Greens, blues and pinks swirled across each feather.

“More training?” she asked out loud.

No, more tools for more training. Climb on. We have a ways to go.

Pulling herself on, she settled in front of his massive wings. He stretched them out, flexing a bit before he pushed into the sky. She grabbed at his mane, fighting to keep herself from tumbling backwards as he took off.

Hold tight
, he instructed.

They exploded out over the canopy, the world stretching out before them. The mountain range surrounded them on all sides, marking the end of the world. The trees flew by beneath them and Kiora breathed in deeply, enjoying the moment.

“Why can’t you talk to humans?” she asked after a few minutes.

Pegasus’ can read the minds of anything that has the capacity to think. But to communicate with us they must be capable of telepathy, humans are not. You have something different about you that allows you to hear me.

“I’m different?” she wrinkled her nose in distaste. “Am I telepathic?” she asked.

I doubt it.

“Hmmm,” she mused. “I don’t know if I would like knowing what everybody was thinking all of the time.”